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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305263">I've always been a daughter (but feathers are meant for the sky)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlass27/pseuds/softlass27'>softlass27</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Eve 'verse [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Emmerdale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anti-Chaddy, Bad Parenting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eve Dingle just really loves her brother and his husband okay?, Family Issues, Fluff, Gen, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:53:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlass27/pseuds/softlass27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eighteen years in the life of Eve Dingle, as she navigates her way through growing up, family dramas and figuring out what – and who - it is that really matters to her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Eve 'verse [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>147</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I've always been a daughter (but feathers are meant for the sky)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This came about because I've seen a fair bit of chatter on Tumblr about how messed up Eve's bound to be because of her parents not getting over the loss of Grace (plus the fact that they haven't been great to Aaron over the years, either). I couldn't get the thought out of my head, and so a fic was created!</p><p>So yes, fair warning, if you're at all a fan of Chas and Paddy, this is probably not the fic for you. However, if you're NOT a fan of Chas and Paddy, and you think that they're incredibly toxic people and horrible parents... I hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 5 years old and she lives in a small pub in a village called Emmerdale. She has a very big family, and she lives with her mummy and daddy. Mummy calls her “love” all the time, and gives her lots of cuddles and kisses. She’s in charge of the pub, which means she’s very busy, her heels clacking as she runs around sorting things out. She can also be very loud, especially when she’s annoyed with Auntie Charity. Which is often.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Daddy is a vet, which means he looks after animals – mainly cows and sheep. He’s always carrying his big bag of things to help him look after them, huffing and puffing in and out of the door every day. He has a high-pitched laugh and he stumbles over his words so much that it takes him ages to say anything. Eve’s not sure what he’s on about half the time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She may be the only one living with Mummy and Daddy, but she’s not an only child. She has a brother called Aaron; he has dark curly hair like hers and people never seem to get tired of pointing out how much she looks like him. But Aaron’s not like the brothers that most of Eve’s friends have; he’s already a proper grown up, with his own house and a job and everything. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">And then there’s her sister, Grace, who she’s never actually met. Grace is her big sister, but from the way everyone talks about her, she’s somehow only a baby. Mummy and Daddy take Eve to the graveyard to look at a stone with Grace’s name on it and tell her that Grace can’t be with them, but they’ll always remember her. Mummy would cry and Daddy would try not to cry, and Eve would stand there and scuff her shoes in the grass, not really knowing what to do. She hates going to the graveyard, but it seems she doesn’t have a choice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Mummy and Daddy get worried easily. Mainly about the things that Eve isn’t allowed to do, all the dangers in the world. She can’t go to the scrapyard where Aaron works and there are too many sharp objects. She can’t be in the front of the pub when it’s too crowded and there are too many strangers. She can’t go near the street unless someone’s carrying her, even though there are hardly any cars in the village. She mustn’t play any rough games in the playground with the other kids. She can’t go to the Outdoor Pursuits Centre and she mustn’t go anywhere <em>near </em>the stables where the horses live. She can’t go to karate lessons with her cousin, Isaac, even though Uncle Cain promised Mummy it was totally safe. She’s especially gutted about that one, it looked cool.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She doesn’t get sick very often, and she’s glad because she hates it when she does. Suddenly she can’t go to school, she can’t go outside, can’t see anyone, can’t even leave her room if Mummy and Daddy think it’s bad. They almost never leave her alone then, constantly giving her yucky medicines and sticking a thermometer in her mouth. The worst part is how they make her stay in bed and rest all day. Which is so <em>boring</em>. Sometimes Daddy even sleeps on her bedroom floor during the night, and his snoring is so loud that she doesn’t get much rest at all, which she thinks kind of defeats the point.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">So yeah, Mummy and Daddy like to fuss about a lot of different things – sometimes Eve thinks there’s a new thing every other day. It can be a pain, but that’s just the way it is, she supposes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 6 years old and she adores her big brother. She has a lot of people to love; Uncle Cain and his funny frowns, Uncle Marlon and his delicious food, Granny Faith and her loud cackle… but Aaron is her favourite person in the whole family, in the whole <em>world</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He’s big and strong, but he gives the softest cuddles – even if his beard is a bit scratchy. He pushes her high on the swings, and gives her piggyback rides, and plays football with her behind the pub (Daddy watching anxiously from the sidelines), even though she’s not really that good at it. He also takes her on the best days out; to funfairs, to swimming pools, to zoos, to see the latest Disney film at the cinema... </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron only lives down the road in a house called the Mill, so Eve gets to go round all the time. Mummy and Daddy bring her with them wherever they pop over (they pop over a <em>lot</em>), and when they’re busy with the pub or the vets, they often leave her there with him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He picks her up from school at least once a week, always standing with the parents with his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie as he waits for her. A lot of the boys in her class get excited whenever they see Aaron’s car; it’s a Porsche, which makes it very cool, apparently. Eve doesn’t really care which car he picks he up in, as long as he lets her choose the music on the way home.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Funnily enough, some of the other kids in her class have also mistaken Aaron for her daddy. To be fair, she thinks, he does look more like the other daddies at the school gates than her actual dad does. He acts more like them, too, sometimes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">When he brings her to his place after school, he cooks her tea and helps her with her homework, which is a relief, seeing as Mummy gets distracted easily and any time Daddy tries to explain anything to her, she ends up more confused than she was to begin with. But Aaron is patient and goes over things slowly until she gets it, giving her a proud grin and ruffling her hair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">On the nights when she stays over at the Mill, sleeping in a room that used to belong to Aaron’s other sister before she moved to Ireland (she’s younger than Aaron but older than Eve), he always makes her a massive hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, as long as she promises not to tell Mummy. Those are her favourite nights.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">One day after school in December, she’s helping Aaron put up Christmas cards around the Mill. He carries her while she carries the cards and carefully places them on the shelves, chattering about her upcoming nativity as she does so (it’s a big deal – she’s playing an angel and that means getting to wear <em>wings</em>). As she reaches up to put one on the mantlepiece, she spots a framed photo at the back, tucked behind a stack of letters and other scattered items. In it, she can see Aaron and another man standing with their arms around each other and smiling. They have matching blue suits on.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">“Who’s that?” She asks, grabbing it. </span> <span class="s2">Aaron looks a little sad all of a sudden – he does that sometimes – and gently takes it from her. </span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“That’s Robert.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Who’s Robert?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“He was my husband.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">This is new information. “You had a <em>husband</em>?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I did.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Where is he now?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“He… he had to go away.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Like Grace?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No, sweetheart, not like that. He’s just… very far away right now, so I can’t see him anymore.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Do you miss him?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron doesn’t say anything for a moment. He keeps looking at the photo and blinking very fast.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Every day.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve leans over in his arms to get a better look at her brother’s husband. His blond hair and wide smile sort of reminds her of her Ken doll.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“He’s very handsome,” she says decidedly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron barks out a laugh. “Yeah, he is, isn’t he?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Do you have more photos of him?” Her eyes dart around the room, but she can’t see any others, which is odd. If she had a husband of her own, she thinks she’d have pictures of him everywhere. Especially if she didn’t get to see him every day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I have lots on my phone.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Can I see?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron pauses, before fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Yeah, course you can.” They snuggle down on the sofa and he starts scrolling, showing her picture after picture.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“He’s cooking again,” she points to a photo of Robert and what looks like a spicy curry in a pot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, he was pretty good at it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What else is he good at?” She’s more curious than ever about this mysterious husband no one’s told her about before. Mummy and Daddy have never even mentioned him – and Mummy <em>loves</em> to talk about other people.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron just stares at her for a moment, he looks surprised for some reason. “Lots of things,” he says quietly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Liiike…?” She pulls a face and he rolls his eyes at her cheek, but starts talking. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">And that’s how Eve learns about Robert.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 7 years old when she develops asthma and according to her parents, it’s the end of the world. She doesn’t know what the big deal is; she just gets a bit out of breath now and then, but it goes away as soon as she uses the inhaler that the doctor gave her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But Mummy keeps crying and Daddy keeps wringing his hands and she overhears them mention Grace a few times (what this has to do with her, Eve has no idea). All of a sudden they’re calling the school and telling them that she can’t always do P.E. with the rest of her class, and they’re pulling her out of football club and gymnastics. Even though she <em>knows</em> Doctor Sharma said it was fine as long as she was careful, she heard her say so. Theo, whose daddy runs the local shop, has asthma too, and all he seems to do is play sports, he’s <em>fine</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The final straw comes when they tell her she can’t go to ballet classes anymore. She doesn’t cry very often – hates the attention it brings – but now she bursts into tears. Ballet is her favourite thing in the world; it has been ever since her cousin, Belle, took her to see <em>The Nutcracker</em> in Leeds last Christmas and she started lessons in January. Her teacher says she’s a natural and she’s already made friends there… she can’t stop going to ballet, she just <em>can’t</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She begs and pleads with them but they won’t budge. Mummy says, “But what if you have an asthma attack, love?” and tries to pull her into a hug, but Eve’s not having it. She flies up the stairs and into her room, sobbing in the small blanket fort that Aaron helped her build a few weekends ago. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She doesn’t know how long she lies curled up there before there’s a soft knock at the door and someone comes in. She peeks over her hands, ready to tell whoever it is to please go away, but relaxes when she sees it’s just Aaron. He crouches down and tilts his head at her. “Can I come in?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She hiccups and shuffles over to make room, and he’s really only able to fit his head and chest through the gap but it’s enough for him to squeeze next to her. She tells him about what happened, tells him she wishes she didn’t have to have this stupid inhaler. She hardly ever gets out of breath doing ballet so she doesn’t understand why having it means she isn’t allowed to dance anymore. He lets her cry herself out until her face aches and her throat is sore, carding a large hand through her messy hair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’ll talk to them,” he says quietly, mouth pressed into a hard line. He gives her a kiss on the forehead, carefully eases himself out of the wall of blankets and heads downstairs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve doesn’t know what Aaron said, but she’s allowed to keep going to ballet classes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 8 years old when Robert comes back to Emmerdale.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She sees him going in and out of Diane’s house, wandering around the village, always looking a little lost. She supposes it must be weird being back home after having been away for so long. He doesn't look like the Robert she’s seen in pictures, not bright and smiling like he was before. He looks older (she supposes that’s fair enough) and tired, as if he hasn’t slept in days. His hair is longer, lying flat on his head instead of sticking up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron’s acting very strange about the whole situation; he’s tense and distracted, and he doesn’t seem excited like she imagined he’d be if he saw Robert again. Mum fusses and frets over him more than ever (Eve’s almost grateful for the break, to be honest), and Eve overhears her having several hushed conversations with Dad when they think she’s not listening, both Aaron and Robert’s names cropping up every time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">At first, Aaron seems to be avoiding Robert, but as the weeks go by, she spots them talking quietly in the street. Then again outside the cafe and again inside the shop. Eve wishes they could see themselves, how funny they look dancing around each other in the village, moving towards each other then pulling away. Like a <em>pas de deux</em>, she thinks to herself with a giggle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert eventually starts coming into the pub with Diane, as well as Jimmy and Nicola King, though he looks very nervous about it. Mum never serves him, only Auntie Charity or Matty. But Eve does see her and Dad glare at Robert where he sits with his pint, deep frowns on their faces every time they catch Aaron staring at him across the pub.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She doesn’t quite get what going on here, and she tells Aaron so the next time she stays over at the Mill.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So why isn’t Robert living here with you, like before? Can’t you go back to being husbands again?” She asks from her spot on the floor as he sits on the sofa behind her and brushes her hair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron sighs deeply. “It’s not as simple as that, Eve.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But you always said you missed him! And he must have missed you, too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, of course I did but – ” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, then.” Aaron shakes his head and wraps strands of her hair together in silence.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You might have a point,” he eventually says as he finishes tying off a loose plait. It always ends up looking a little wonky, but she appreciates the effort.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve desperately wants to meet Robert and see what he’s like for herself, but every time she gets him in her sights, her mum drags her in the other direction, shooting nasty looks behind her. Eve can’t help but wonder why Mum’s not more happy that Aaron’s finally got his husband back after being without him for so long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eventually, Eve seizes her chance when Granny Faith pops into the cafe on their way to her dance rehearsal and gets sidetracked chatting to Brenda at the counter. Eve’s gaze wanders around as she waits – Granny Faith can talk for England – until she suddenly sees Robert sitting hunched in the corner, a single mug on the table in front of him. Perfect.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Hullo,” she says, hoisting herself into the seat opposite him. Robert blinks, looking slightly startled. She doesn’t know why, it’s not like she’s particularly intimidating (that’s one of her favourite big words – people often use it to describe Uncle Cain).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Erm, hello.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re Robert.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“… I am, yes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’m Eve.” She sticks her hand out and his mouth curls upwards as he shakes it. His hands are <em>enormous</em>, even bigger than Aaron’s.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It’s nice to meet you, Eve.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She stares at him for a moment. “You look different to how you did in the photos.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Sorry?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“In the photos that Aaron showed me, the ones on his phone.” He looks at her a little helplessly, like he doesn’t know what to do with that. Maybe she’s offended him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I think it’s the hair,” she points to the too-long strands hanging over his forehead. “I’m sure you’d look like that again if you just got it cut. I could have a go if you want, I’ve cut loads of my dolls’ hair so – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t you dare.” She squawks when someone behind her gives her ponytail a gentle yank. Aaron’s suddenly looming over the chair, leaning down to squeeze his arms around her shoulders. “I’ve seen what you did to those poor dolls, nearly decapitated the last one I got you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He grins down at her before looking up at Robert.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Hiya,” he says softly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Alright?” Robert smiles up at him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I see you’ve met this brat, then?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert casts an eye over Eve, takes in her pink trainers and the bows in her hair before nodding. “I thought she looked like trouble.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Eve!” Granny Faith calls her from where she’s standing by the door, but she doesn’t look cross like Mum does whenever Eve strays too far from her side. “We don’t want to be late, darlin'.” She looks past Eve and throws a wink at Robert, like they’re old friends.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I have to go now. Buh-bye Robert,” Eve jumps up and runs back to her. As they head out, she turns back and sees Aaron sink down in the seat she’d just been in, saying something that makes Robert chuckle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I met Robert today!” She tells her parents when they sit down for tea. They both freeze, cutlery hovering in the air.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh?” Mum says and stabs a carrot with her fork.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“In the cafe, we said hello.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Maybe just stay away from him, okay love?” Mum says quietly, in that voice she uses when she wants to sound gentle but it comes out like a warning. Eve’s heard her use it whenever someone in the family does something she doesn’t like.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Why? He was nice.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“The – the thing is, Evie,” Dad says, adjusting his glasses and scratching his bald head. “What your mum means is – Robert’s, well, Robert’s not – not a very good person so – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I know he was in prison.” Their heads shoot up when she cuts across him, twin expressions of shock on their faces. “Aaron told me ages ago.” He had, explaining that Robert had hurt a man who’d hurt his little sister, so he had to go to jail. He’d done a bad thing, but that didn’t make him a bad person. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It makes sense to her; Aaron wouldn’t have married Robert if he wasn’t good. He’s not <em>stupid</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, that’s… ” Her parents look at each other uncertainly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But he’s back now,” she says and shoves a forkful of peas into her mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">On Saturday morning, Eve’s rifling through the post when she suddenly spots a large envelope with a familiar logo on it. Holding her breath, she tears it open and yanks the letter out, eyes scanning the words before she shrieks with delight. It’s an acceptance letter to the Northern Ballet’s Summer School, a whole <em>week</em> of intensive classes with actual professional dancers, learning proper routines and everything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">After a lesson back in February, her dance teacher, Sophie, had pulled her dad aside and said she should apply, she was definitely good enough to get in. Dad had smiled politely and ushered Eve in the car, saying they couldn’t be late as Aaron was coming round for tea. Once they’d gotten home, him and Mum didn’t seem so sure about it, listing off problems like most people list off a shopping list – the training sounded too advanced, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with her asthma, Leeds was too big and too far away, they wouldn’t have time to take her every day, they weren’t sure they could afford it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron had fixed them with a hard stare when they eventually ran out of steam. He folded his arms and said, quite matter-of-factly, that he could take time off work to drive her to Leeds and back. That he’d drop her off at the door and wait outside until she came out again, if necessary. That he had enough money to cover to the fee, if they couldn’t.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So there’s no reason why she shouldn’t at least give it a shot, is there?” He finished, leaning back in his chair with a raised eyebrow. Mum and Dad had been silent for a long moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No… ” Mum took a slow sip of her drink, face twisting like it was particularly sour. “I suppose not.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">And so Eve had sent off an application, along with a series of video auditions that Sophie helped her put together. She’d been waiting for what felt like forever and now, <em>finally</em>, it’s paid off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She dashes outside and sprints in the direction of the Mill, desperate to tell Aaron the good news. Technically she’s not supposed to go on her own (she’s not supposed to go <em>anywhere</em> on her own), but this can’t wait.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Aarooonnn!! Look what came in the – ” She bursts through the door and stops short when she sees Aaron and Robert in the kitchen. One second they’re pressed together with their arms intertwined, the next they’re springing apart, looking like they’ve just been caught doing something naughty. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Hey Eve,” Aaron sounds out of breath, chest heaving as if he’s just been playing a particularly energetic game of football. “Robert was just… ” He trails off awkwardly. Robert doesn’t say anything, but Eve notices he’s wearing pyjama bottoms and a hoodie that definitely belongs to Aaron.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve has watched enough Netflix rom-coms with April to guess what she just walked in on. “Were you kissing?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I – uh – we – ” Aaron’s face turns bright red.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“<em>Now</em> are you husbands again?” She resists the urge to tap her foot impatiently. They look at each other slowly, and Aaron gives Robert a tiny smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“If he wants to be?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">Eve thinks this is the first time she’s seen Robert look properly happy since he came back to the village. “Course I do,” he says quietly, looking at Aaron the way he did in the framed photo that's still on the mantlepiece. </span> <span class="s2">Aaron’s smile widens and it’s like they’ve forgotten she’s even there.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve watches this for a minute, before she spots an array of ingredients on the kitchen counter. “What’s that you’re making?” She darts over, pushing between them and standing on her tiptoes to get a better look.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Um, I was going to do some pancakes,” said Robert.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“May I have some, please?” She asks, suddenly starving. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron laughs. “Go on, then. I’ll text Mum then you can tell me what you’ve got there, yeah?” He gestures to the letter in her hands – she’d almost forgotten about it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She makes herself at home at the table as Aaron gets his phone out, and Robert smiles at her. “What do you want on your pancakes, then?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Got any Nutella?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 9 years old, and there have been a lot of changes over the last year.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert’s finally living in the Mill with Aaron and they’re <em>finally</em> proper husbands again, just like she’d thought they’d be. They have matching rings and everything. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">A tiny part of Eve had been afraid that Aaron having Robert back would mean that she wouldn’t see as much of him, but she should’ve known better. She spends just as much time at the Mill as she did before, which means she has plenty of time to learn more about Robert. This is something she takes very seriously, seeing as he’s married to her favourite person.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">When Eve first met Robert, he wore a lot of baggy jeans and jumpers, but as time goes by and he goes back to the job he had before prison (something to do with trucks), he swaps them for fitted trousers and smart blue blazers. And he gets his hair cut, thank goodness. Him and Aaron couldn’t be more different, but she thinks they look nice together anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert speaks quietly but not shyly. He’s very clever and uses lots of big words, always happy to explain what they mean when Eve asks, so that she can repeat them later. He really is an amazing cook, just like Aaron told her. Eve enjoys eating her tea at theirs much more than she did when Aaron was the one making it. Not that she’d tell him that, she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. And he still makes the best fry up of all time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">All in all, she likes Robert a lot. Adores him, even.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Another person who begins to appear in the Mill is Seb. Seb is Robert’s son, which makes him Aaron’s stepson, so he’s kind of Eve’s step-nephew, even though he’s older than her. It’s no big deal, just another oddity to add to her complicated family tree. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">From what she’s been told, Aaron and Robert used to see Seb all the time before Robert went to prison, back when he was a baby, but after that he stayed with his mum, Rebecca. Eve’s seen her a couple of times when she's dropped Seb off; she’s very pretty but she wears too-bright clothes that don’t match and covers her shiny blonde hair with stupid hats (Aaron snorts into his brew when she tells him this).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Seb is pretty cool. He has freckles like Robert’s, is slightly ginger, watches football but prefers playing rugby, is brilliant at video games, and travels almost exclusively by skateboard. He’s friendly and funny, and doesn’t mind hanging out with Eve even though she’s only nine. Which is just as well, seeing as he starts to spend more and more time with them over the course of the year. The odd weekend soon turning into regular ones, which turns into a whole week, which turns into half the summer holidays. His bedroom is next to Eve's.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Two people who <em>aren’t</em> in the Mill so often these days are Mum and Dad. Gone are the times when they would come over unannounced, Mum making herself a brew in the kitchen while they asked Aaron question after question about what he’d been up to lately. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">And when Robert first moved back in, they suddenly didn’t seem to want Eve going there, either. For some reason, after that first morning when she saw them kissing in the kitchen, Mum and Dad didn’t ask Aaron to babysit her anymore, stopped leaving her with him because of work emergencies at the pub or the vets. When Aaron offered to have her over for her tea or a sleepover, they’d refuse, telling him that they had plans to take her somewhere or that they’d already promised Granny Faith could have her for the night.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve knew this wasn’t true, and it hadn’t taken long for Aaron to figure it out, either. It had led to some almighty rows that Eve could hear from all the way from her room. She would sit on the stairs and listen to her parents yell at Aaron in a way she’d never heard before, hear snatches of phrases like, <em>not to be trusted, wormed his way back in, just looking out for you, we don’t want <strong>either</strong> of you near him</em>. She guessed <em>him</em> meant <em>Robert</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">And Aaron would shout right back, tell them they were being <em>unbelievable</em> and <em>controlling</em> and then, sounding a little like he was in tears, <em>why can’t you just accept that he’s the only one who makes me happy?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It took awhile, but eventually they gave in. Now they frown and look uncomfortable every time she asks to go over or Aaron picks her up, but they don’t say no. She’s pretty sure they try the odd excuse now and then, but they don’t push it. She still has her tea at the Mill after school or dance class, and still stays the night some weekends.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s during one of those nights, about a month after Robert moved back in, that she overhears Aaron and Robert talking about it – about her. She’d been asleep on the rug in front of the TV, having conked out next to their new golden retriever, Sansa (Aaron had explained that they’d gotten her to help Robert get through the Bad Days, the ones where he can’t stop thinking about prison). She awakens to the sound of them talking quietly, the film they’d been watching a low hum in the background. Too sleepy to move, she keeps her face buried in Sansa’s soft fur and just listens.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I think she likes me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You kidding? She thinks the sun shines out of your bum. I’m starting to think I’m being replaced.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Bit different to when I first met Liv.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, well she’s pretty different to Liv,” Aaron snorts, then continues softly. “I knew the two of you would get on. You know how I told you that Mum and Paddy would keep foisting her on me, use her as a distraction from everythin’. From you. I knew what they were doing but… well, y’know what I’m like. She had me wrapped around her finger before she was even walking.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She hears Robert chuckle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But it backfired on them, ‘cause as soon as she found out about you, she wanted to know everything about you, about us. She actually became the only person I could talk to about you without feeling like I was about to be shot down or told that I should’ve moved on by now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“They haven’t brought her round much lately, though,” Robert points out quietly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No… ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Because of me. M’sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oi, stop it, it’s not your fault they’re being – anyway it doesn’t matter, she’s old enough to choose who she wants to spend time with, whether they like it or not. Which is just as well; she’d never get out of that pub, otherwise.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, what’s up with that, anyway? They’re a bit… ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Insanely overprotective? Yeah. It’s always been that way, ever since she was born. I’d hoped they’d get past it as she got older, but if anything it’s gotten worse. I’ve tried talking to them about it, so have Cain and Gran but… you should’ve seen when they found out she had asthma, Rob. I honestly thought Mum was gonna have a breakdown. Even the <em>thought</em> of her getting sick or hurt… it makes them think of Grace and… they just can’t cope.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He sighs. “I try to take her out, do lots of fun stuff with her – stuff I know they wouldn’t let her do – just so she can be a normal kid, at least some of the time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So it’s big brother Aaron to the rescue once again, eh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Shut up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 10 years old when she breaks a bone for the first time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s stupid, really. She’s tagging along with Seb and Isaac one Saturday afternoon while her parents are shopping in Leeds, watching them mess around on their skateboards, practising tricks that they’d seen on Youtube over and over again until they get them right. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She cackles loudly when Isaac takes a particularly hard fall, tripping over his own feet and skidding across the gravel. He glowers at her and insists it’s not like she could do any better.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It can’t be that hard, ‘specially if you can do it,” she fires back automatically, never one to turn down a chance to go toe to toe with Isaac.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Seb laughs and offers his skateboard out to her. “You want a go? Show us how it’s done?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve’s never been on a skateboard in her life, has no idea what she’s doing really, but takes it anyway. She spins across a slippery dance floor on her tiptoes on a regular basis, how difficult can this be?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Turns out, it’s quite difficult. She’s barely been on it more than twenty seconds before she loses control, crashes into a low wall and goes flying.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Ow…” She sits up slowly, feeling dazed. Isaac and Seb are both jogging over to her, a quiet stream of “s<em>hit shit shit</em>” falling out of Isaac’s mouth. Seb runs to the Mill and comes back with Robert, who crouches down next to her and pats over her gently.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What hurts?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Just my arm,” she says, holding up her left arm, which is throbbing with increasing pain. “And my head, a bit.” Robert looks a little more worried when she says that and helps her into the car, Seb hopping in beside her (Isaac scarpers off home – typical). He puts Aaron on speakerphone, tells him what happened and that he’s taking Eve to the hospital.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Can you let your Mum and Paddy know?” He grips the steering wheel tightly as he says it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve hears Aaron let out a long, harsh breath. “Christ. Yeah, okay. I’m just coming up to Hotten now, I’ll meet you there.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">After Aaron hangs up, Eve nudges the back of Robert’s seat with her foot. “Do we have to tell Mum and Dad?” She has a feeling this isn’t going to go down well, and she’d rather not spend the next month locked up inside her house.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“‘Fraid so, kiddo,” Robert says, but he sounds apologetic.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron finds them at the hospital not long after they arrive, coming to sit next to her as they wait to be seen. “What you been doing, eh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“She managed a good three seconds before she fell off,” Seb says, rolling his skateboard back and forth under the chair with his foot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It wasn’t <em>three seconds</em>.” Eve would smack him if her arm wasn’t so sore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It doesn’t take long for a woman in blue scrubs named Doctor Crawford to call her name and take her to a cubicle. It turns out she doesn’t have a concussion, but she does have a small break in her arm and needs to wear a cast for a few weeks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What colour you getting then?” Aaron asks as Dr Crawford gets everything prepared.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Pink, obviously. Please,” she adds to Dr Crawford, not wanting to be rude to the person who was about to fix her dodgy arm.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Of course. I’d go for pink, too,” Dr Crawford grins at her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They’ve just finished up and Dr Crawford is going over how to keep the cast clean, when Eve hears the unmistakable sounds of her parents storming into the A&amp;E, demanding to know where her daughter is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Within seconds of Dr Crawford pulling back the curtain, they’re barging over and grabbing Eve close to them, her mum’s nails digging into her shoulders so hard they begin to sting.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Dr Crawford gives them a rundown of Eve’s condition, explains that she has a broken arm but is otherwise unharmed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But – but what about <em>that</em>?” Dad points to the bruise on her forehead. “Doesn’t she have a concussion?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No, it’s just a bump,” she smiles reassuringly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Are you sure? Have you <em>checked</em>?” Mum asks, her voice becoming so shrill that Eve can’t help but wince.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Miss Dingle.” Dr Crawford sounds like an incredibly patient person. “I can assure you that I have checked Eve over thoroughly, there are no signs of a concussion or any other head injuries.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“<em>Mum</em>,” Aaron cuts her off, sounding embarrassed. “They know what they’re doing, she’s <em>fine</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Mum looks like she’s about to keep arguing, but she closes her mouth reluctantly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Dr Crawford begins to step out of the cubicle. “I’ll give you all a minute while I get Eve’s painkillers sorted, then she’s free to go home.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Thank you,” Robert murmurs and smiles at her. She smiles back and draws the curtain closed behind her. Mum’s scowling at Robert before he’s even turned back to them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What happened?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, I wasn’t there but – ” Robert begins but Dad cuts him off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What do you <em>mean</em> you weren’t there – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Paddy – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It was my fault,” Seb interrupts, looking nervous when Mum’s head whips towards him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“We were outside, me and Isaac were watching her and – and I let her have a go on my skateboard…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It was just an accident, Mum, I wasn’t even going that fast, it’s okay,” Eve adds, trying to do damage control. She doesn’t want Seb getting in trouble over something so daft.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Paddy narrows his eyes at Robert. “So you – while you were – were meant to be watching our d-daughter, you just – just let her go out alone.” The stress is making his stammer worse.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“She wasn’t <em>alone</em>, she was with Seb and Isaac, and she doesn’t need watching 24/7.” Aaron sounds increasingly exasperated. "Paddy, this has got to stop.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“She’s still a child.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“She’s 10, she’s old enough to play in the street with other kids, for God’s sake! Robert didn’t do anything wrong, you know he loves Eve.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Aaron – ” Robert touches his hand gently as Eve’s mum folds her arms across her chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Clearly not, if he’d rather dump her on his son – who’s clearly about as reliable as he is.” Seb shrinks back, looking at his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oi, that’s enough,” Aaron’s voice drops to a low growl, which is somehow scarier than him shouting. He takes a step forwards. “That’s my son, too, you don’t talk to him like that, <em>ever</em>. Or Robert.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They come to a stalemate, both sides glaring and breathing heavily through their noses.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I… I really am fine,” Eve pipes up quietly. She has a feeling this isn’t entirely about her falling off a skateboard anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Mum taps her foot before grabbing Eve’s not-broken arm and dragging her away, tells her to wait with Dad while she gets the painkillers off the doctor. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve cranes her neck from her spot by the reception desk until she can see Aaron, Robert and Seb still standing by the cubicle. Aaron doesn’t look angry anymore, just upset, Robert rubbing his back and pressing his mouth to his forehead. Aaron squeezes Seb’s shoulder and says something that she can’t hear.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She sighs and kicks her foot against the desk. All this over a stupid skateboard.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 11 years old when she comes home from a career day at school. They’ve finished their SATs now, so the last slow weeks of primary school are filled with random off-curriculum events.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“How was it?” Dad asks when her and Mum walk through the door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve shrugs. “It was okay, bit boring.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Nothing catch your eye, then?” Eve thinks of all the different people who came in to speak to her class; a policeman, a mechanic, a nurse, an accountant (yawn). She’d zoned out before most of them finished talking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Not really.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, you’ve got plenty of time to decide what you want to do. Years and years yet,” Mum smiles and drops her handbag on the table.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve thinks for a moment. “I just want to dance.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Mum starts laughing and Eve doesn’t know why. She pats Eve’s arm as she passes by her. “I don’t think there’d be many dancing jobs for you around here, love!” she says lightly and breezes through door to the bar.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Something inside Eve sinks like a stone, settling uncomfortably in her stomach. She glances at her dad, but he doesn’t look up from the spreadsheets in front of him, oblivious as ever. She suddenly wants to get away from the house.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Can I go to the Mill?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He frowns. “Aaron’s not there, he’s visiting Liv, remember?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I know, but Robert will be home.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She starts preparing her list of arguments to counter the excuses she can see running through his head . </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> <em>You have homework? No homework since exams have finished. We’re having tea soon? Not even started cooking yet. It’ll be dark soon? Nope, it’s July.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Fine,” he eventually sighs, going back to his paperwork.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She practically runs to the Mill.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 12 years old and she is <em>trying </em>to have a nice day at the beach.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s the Easter holidays and they’ve all come for a day out at Scarborough, a whole troop of Dingles and their other halves spilling out of cars and spreading out across the sand. It’s still a little chilly, in fact the water is bloody freezing, but everyone’s remarkably jolly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Well, almost everyone. Her mum’s already in a foul mood, and has been since before they’d even left the village. As they’d all congregated outside the pub, sorting out who was travelling with who, Eve told her parents she’d rather go in Aaron and Robert’s car instead of theirs. They’d looked ready to argue, but Grandad Zak had clapped his hands and bellowed that it was time to get going, so Eve had taken her chance and hopped into the car next to Seb and Sansa, slamming the door shut before they could stop her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Now Mum’s giving her the cold shoulder, and she’s not happy with Dad, either. Eve overheard Vinny – who had ended up being one of the unfortunate ones in the backseat of her parents’ car – tell Lydia that she’d spent most of the journey snapping at him over directions. They’d barely been speaking by the time they’d arrived.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">To be fair, that’s not an unusual occurrence these days. Mum can’t seem to go more than a few days without snapping at Dad, and <em>he</em> can’t seem to go more than a few days without putting his foot in it and saying something to make her lose her temper. They argue, she calls him <em>useless</em> and gives him the silent treatment, he sulks but eventually apologises, then they go back to being civil until the cycle repeats itself again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">There’s a reason Eve asked for a pair of noise-cancelling headphones last Christmas.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">So yeah, when Eve gets out of the car once they arrive at the beach, both of her parents have faces like thunder. Mum barely even looks at Eve when she reels off all the things Eve can and cannot do while they’re there: no wandering off, no swimming out of your depth, always keep hold of your inhaler, no staying in the sun for too long. Eve has to resist rolling her eyes at that one – as if she’s going to get skin cancer in Scarborough in <em>April</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">For his part, Dad parks himself in a camping chair and stares moodily out at the sea. He doesn’t look like he’ll be moving anytime soon, except to shift uncomfortably whenever his back twinges. He looks like he’d rather be laid out on the sofa at home, which has basically been his default setting ever since he hit his sixties. Even Uncle Marlon can’t shake him out of his funk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve, on the other hand, is determined to have a good time, misery-guts parents be damned. Her first year of secondary school has been nothing short of hellish so far, and she needs a break. So she spends the morning building an epic sandcastle with her cousins (Belle and Jamie’s twins take this very seriously), searching for fossils with Aaron and Sansa, splashing about in the sea with Seb and Isaac. By the time it’s almost noon, she’s knackered and decides to sprawl out on a towel next to Robert, who has his head buried in a book. She reaches into her backpack and pulls a book of her own, another Rick Riordan one (she’s been a bit obsessed with Greek mythology ever since she and Theo did a project on it at school). </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She’s quite happy diving into the latest adventures of Percy Jackson until a shadow appears on the pages and she looks up to see her dad standing over her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Hi?” <em>What now?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Why don’t you come and – and sit with me and Leo, Evie?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve cranes her neck to where where her sort-of-but-not-really-half-brother is sitting further down the beach, then looks back to Dad, who begins to fidget when she doesn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“We were going to tuck into some crisps,” he tries to smile enticingly, eyes wide. He doesn’t even glance in Robert’s direction.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’m good here, thanks, don’t wanna spoil my appetite before dinner.” His smile drops instantly. “Besides, I can’t leave Robert here on his own, can I?” She can’t resist adding. Robert doesn’t look up from his book, but she sees his mouth twitch out of the corner of her eye.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Dad mouth gapes like a fish for a moment, before he lets out an irritated huff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Your mother wants to know what you want in your sandwiches,” he mutters, previous cheery tone replaced with a frosty one.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Um, just ham and cheese, please?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He nods shortly and walks away, heading towards where Mum and Lydia have started making a mountain of food for dinner. She watches him say something to Mum, gesture back to where Eve and Robert are sitting. Mum frowns and shakes her head, before waving him away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve sighs and chucks her book to one side, her relaxed mood gone in an instant. Robert watches her over the top of his own book for a moment, before folding his page and closing it, nudging her with his elbow.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I can’t stand them sometimes.” She feels bad for saying it out loud, though the thought has been popping up in her head all day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert doesn’t say anything for a while, but eventually he opens his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You know, I didn’t get on with my dad when I was younger,” he speaks slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She blinks in surprise; it’s a change from what adults usually say whenever she moans about her parents. It’s usually something along the lines of, <em>they love you, they just want what’s best for you.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You didn’t?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Nope.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Why not?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Lots of reasons.” He gives her a smile that looks more like a grimace. “We were very different and as I got older… he didn’t always treat me the way I wanted to be treated. He was still my dad but… I didn’t like him very much in the end.” He looks out at the sea with vacant eyes, before he blinks and smiles gently.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“That happens sometimes. And it’s okay. As long as you have people who you properly love, who love you back.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve sits quietly and digests this, curling and uncurling her toes in the sand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Just as she considers asking Robert more about what his dad was like, Aaron comes bounding over, tackling Robert so forcefully he ends up flat on his back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Gerroff me, you horrible – ” Robert squawks and squirms out of Aaron’s grip. Aaron just laughs and shakes his wet hair like a dog, sending a spray of salty water all over him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You love it,” he grins, pressing happy kisses to Robert’s cheek until his frown melts into a reluctant smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You got my book wet.” He holds up his now slightly soggy paperback.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’ll get you a new copy if it means that much to you, you big baby,” Aaron rolls his eyes. “You two fancy a kickabout before dinner, us three versus Seb, Isaac and Samson? Work up an appetite?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve grins and jumps up – tackling Isaac into the sand will shake off her bad mood in no time. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert hangs his head back and sighs dramatically. “I’m too old for this,” he grumbles, but he lets Aaron drag him to his feet anyway. Eve doesn’t think she’s ever seen Robert deny Aaron anything in her life.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 13 years old and she’s starting to wonder why her parents thought it was a good idea to have another baby not even a year after they’d lost their last one. Why nobody told them to stop or at least wait a bit, just slow down. They clearly had some shit to deal with. But instead of doing that, they had her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She was just a quick-fix. A poor attempt at a replacing what they’d lost.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No you’re <em>not</em>,” Aaron says, looking horrified when she voices this thought one evening during tea. It’s the day after what would have been Grace’s birthday and she’d fled her house, unable to stand her parents’ mournful sighs, the way they seemed to look right through her like she wasn’t even there. Like <em>she’s</em> the one who’s a ghost.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“S’how it feels sometimes,” Eve shrugs and plays with her food. Aaron trades worried looks with Robert.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Seb glances up from his phone and taps his fork against his plate. “Dunno, I’d say you’re pretty unique. Like, no one puts <em>brown sauce</em> on <em>pasta</em> like you do,” he says, gesturing to the HP bottle that she always has next to her plate, no matter what food is served on it. He wrinkles his nose. “No one has toes as gross as yours,” he says, referring to her bruised and blistered feet, an unfortunate result of forcing them into unnatural positions every week. “No one sucks at VR games as badly as you – oi!” He laughs when she throws a handful of lettuce at his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Alright, no throwing salad at the table, please!” Robert shouts before it descends into an all-out food fight.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 14 years old when she find Aaron sitting on the small bridge near the Mill, his legs dangling over the edge.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You okay?” She drops her schoolbag and scoots next to him. He sighs and rest his head on his folded arms, looking closer to 20 than 40 all of a sudden.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Just had a row with Mum and Paddy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“About Robert?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron just nods wearily. It was a stupid question, really.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve swings her legs above the stream and thinks that it must be exhausting for her parents to carry all that anger and judgement around. How they’ve managed to cling onto it after all these years is beyond her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But then that’s what Mum does best, sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong – in fact she seems to thrive on it. There’s nothing she loves more than throwing her weight around at a family meeting or dishing out her so-called wisdom from behind the bar to every villager who walks in, whether they asked for it or not.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">And Dad, well. Dad tends not to get involved in other people’s business, probably doesn’t dare voice an opinion incase it contradict’s Mum’s. But when it comes to Aaron, it’s a whole other story. From the way Dad talks to him, sometimes Eve is convinced that he’s forgotten how old Aaron is, it's like he believes Aaron is only a year or two older than Eve. Dad may not shout the way Mum does, but he can’t seem to resist making little digs at Aaron’s choice of husband, his choice of life.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s the hypocrisy of it that really winds her up, makes her fume on Aaron and Robert’s behalf. Because the thing is, Eve lives in a village of gossips. She’s heard plenty of stories about the terrible things her parents have done over the years. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Dad getting together with Rhona the vet when she was supposed to be with Uncle Marlon, for example. Kind, funny Uncle Marlon – who almost lost his son because Dad and Rhona tried to take him away to the other side of the world. She can’t imagine staying best friends with someone who did something like that, but Uncle Marlon is probably the most forgiving person she’s ever known. And then, after all that, Dad went and cheated on Rhona while they were trying to <em>adopt another kid</em>, no less.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">And Eve knows that Mum has made her fair share of mistakes – despite what she’d have other people believe. For starters, she definitely cheated on Dad during their first go at a relationship, which led to Dad almost kicking Aaron out. And then there’s, y’know, the whole ‘sleeping with cousin Debbie’s boyfriend who actually turned out to be a psychotic serial killer’ thing, so she’s really in no position to be commenting on <em>anyone’s</em> choices.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Not to mention the fact that she left Aaron with… with <em>that man</em> when he was even younger than Eve is now. Eve tries not to dwell on it too much, it makes her sick and shaky and fills her with a kind of rage she didn’t think she was capable of feeling. And look, she <em>knows</em> that it isn’t fair to blame Mum for that, of course she does. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But ever since she found out, ever since that awful day when Aaron had sat her down and quietly explained that part of his past, Robert clutching his arm as he did so… there are times when Eve stares at her mum across the dinner table and furious questions whirl through her head before she can stop them. <em>How could you abandon him like that</em>, <em>how could you not see that something was wrong</em>, <em>why didn’t you <strong>help</strong> him</em>?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">So for either of her parents to say a bad word about Robert, to drag up his past mistakes and to spit out accusations about how he would always hurt Aaron, how he was selfish and dangerous… well. To use one of Granny Faith’s expressions, it beggars belief. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But Aaron never gives in to them, not once. The more they push, the more he pulls away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve rests her head against Aaron’s shoulder and wonders why her parents can’t see that they’re fighting a losing battle.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 15 years old on the day she snaps.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She’s just come out of the cafe with two large takeaway coffees in her hands. Her and Theo have plans for a pretty intense study session (whoever came up with <em>mock</em> GCSE exams should be shot) and they'll need sustenance. As she turns towards the direction of the shop, she hears her mum bark her name from across the street. She takes a deep breath, counts to five and slowly turns around. She knows what’s coming.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Theo’s.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But – but Evie – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Please don’t call me that.” She’s told Dad a million time she hates when he calls her <em>Evie</em>. It’s too much like <em>Gracie</em>. Just the sound of it makes her shoulders clench.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You can’t go to Theo’s, we’re going to see Grace. You should <em>know</em> we’re seeing her today, Eve.” Her mum flaps her hands in frustration, a tiny bunch of white flowers quivering in her grip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I promised Theo I’d revise with him, I’m not cancelling. I can go to the graveyard anytime.” And she does, occasionally. Stares at the headstone with clenched fists and tries to sort through the confused mix of emotions that run through her chest. It’s easier to deal with when she doesn’t have the sounds of her parents’ hitched breaths and quiet sobs piercing her ears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It has to be <em>today</em>,” her mum insists, hint of a whine in her voice. “You know what today is.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve does know what today is, which is exactly why she doesn’t want to go. Today is the anniversary of the day that her parents found out there was something wrong with Grace, that they weren’t going to have her in their lives for longer than a few hours. If that’s not a morbid date to commemorate, Eve doesn’t know what is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’m not stopping you.” And she isn’t – would never – she just doesn’t want to be part of it and wishes they would at least try to understand that. “Just go without me, you don’t need me there.” She shakes her head and starts to walk away, so entirely <em>done</em> with this conversation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Eve, it’s important to remember her – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But I <em>don’t</em> remember her!” She whirls around, surprising herself with how loud her voice is. She almost never shouts, is easily one of the quietest members of her loud family – to the point where they affectionately tease her about it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Look, I am <em>sorry</em> that she’s gone and you’re only left with me, okay? I really am. But she died before I was even born, you can’t expect me to remember someone I’ve never <em>met</em>!” She’s vaguely aware of a small crowd gathering, people stopping in the street to observe their domestic. No doubt it’ll be the talk of the village for the next couple of days. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Her mum stares at her, speechless – there’s a first – and for a wild moment, Eve wonders if she’s going drop the flowers and give her a hug, ask her what she means by that. Instead, she turns on her heel and storms off in the direction of the graveyard without so much as a backward glance. Dad flounders for a moment, looking helplessly between them, before sighing and trailing after Mum.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Well, shit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve doesn’t even consider going home when her and Theo have finished revising. His dad tells her she’s welcome to spend the night if she likes, says they’ll need her help eating the massive chilli he’s concocting in the kitchen. She’s tempted (she loves Theo’s dad, even if he does tell the cringiest jokes she’s ever heard), but declines. There’s really only one place she wants to go right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert sighs and pulls her into a cuddle when she turns up at the Mill.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You heard, then?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, Brenda saw so… ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Seb’s staying at his mum’s for the weekend, so it’s just the three of them tonight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You wanna talk about it?” Aaron asks tentatively after tea. Eve scratches Sansa behind the ears and shrugs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Nothing to say, really. Was just a stupid fight.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She goes to bed early, crawls under the covers and thinks about Grace. Thinks about what kind of parents she might have had if Grace hadn’t had to go and die the way she did.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>If Grace hadn’t died, you never would have lived</em>, a voice hisses in her ear. She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her face into the pillow.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Kid, you have to go home sometime,” says Aaron, though he doesn’t look happy about it. It’s been three days and Eve hasn’t heard a peep out of either of her parents.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Why?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Because you live there.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Wish I lived here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So do I,” Robert mutters darkly. Aaron shoots him a warning look before squeezing Eve’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’ll come with you if you want?” Eve appreciates the offer, especially considering Aaron barely sets foot in the backroom of the pub these days.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It’s okay, I’d rather just go myself. I don’t want to make it a <em>thing</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She wanders home, dragging her feet the entire way. She really doesn’t know what to expect when she gets there.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Turns out, she needn’t have worried about a confrontation. Her parents barely look up when she walks through the door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re back then?” Mum says into her brew, lips pursed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Kettle’s just boiled,” Dad says, his voice low. She thinks he’s aiming for stern or disappointed, but he just sounds as glum as ever.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> <em>Is that <strong>all</strong> either of you are going to say?</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve makes herself a brew and slopes up to her room, closing the door gently behind her. She pads over to the corner that once held her beloved old blanket fort, but is now occupied by the small rocking chair that Uncle Cain made for her. She sinks into it and sips her tea in silence.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Things with her parents have been, well, <em>not good</em> for years now, and everyone knows it. They constantly veer between smothering and distant, trying desperately to keep her close then pushing her away whenever she resists. It’s led to resentment on both sides.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s not like they’re always incapable of getting along; she and Mum will occasionally sit and watch a bad film together, chatting about nothing in particular, or she’ll listen and laugh while Dad tells her a funny story about a crazy cat someone brought into the surgery. Now and then, it’s okay.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But now… it feels like something has shifted; there’s a new crack in their already-strained relationship. And she’s not sure it’s fixable.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 16 years old when she gets her first boyfriend.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">His name is Philip, and he moves into Home Farm with his family just after Christmas. They’re quite posh, which means he’s kind of posh, too, as well as cocky and sarcastic and the kind of person who clearly loves the sound of his own voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">A bit of a knob, essentially.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">For the first few weeks, she sees him around the village and in school, but she has nothing to do with him and that suits her just fine. She has her GCSEs coming up in the summer, the last thing she needs is to be distracted by some annoying tosser with artfully messy hair and a dimple when he smiles and – <em>no</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But then, Eve needs a Maths tutor and the school study group assigns him to help her, so that’s an hour together every Tuesday. Then he keeps coming into the cafe, where she’s started working on Saturdays, and winking at her every time she hands him his cookie. <em>Then</em> he turns up at her sodding ballet rehearsals because it just so happens that he’s a brilliant pianist and they need someone to accompany the dancers. Sophie loves him, keeps saying how lucky they were to find someone as talented as him to help out. Eve just clenches her jaw and jams her feet into her slippers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Spending this much time with Philip means that actually talking to him becomes unavoidable in the end. As time goes by, his cockiness seems more like an easy confidence, his sarcasm becomes a sharp sense of humour that makes her laugh despite herself, and him loving the sound of his voice is… well. That’s sometimes still the case, but she finds she doesn’t mind it as much as she used to.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">One night, at the end of rehearsal, she checks her phone and sees a text from Robert, who’s meant to be picking her up and taking her for some food (she's not allowed to get the bus after dark).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> <em>Hiya, running a bit late, you alright to wait there about 30 mins? Soz! x</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She rolls her eyes and fires a text back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> <em>Ok no worries. I might STARVE to death in the meantime tho x</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> <em>More pizza for me then x</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She waves goodbye to the others and puts her slippers back on, deciding to use the time to work on her variation. It isn’t nearly as good as she wants it to be this close to opening night, and she might be panicking about it just a little. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Philip’s still there; he leans against the piano and offers to stay behind and play for her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Nah, I can just play the music on my phone. Cheers, though,” she mutters, already scrolling through Spotify to find the right track.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t be daft, I’ve got nothing else on.” He swings himself down onto the stool and starts shuffling through the sheet music before she can argue. Well, if he’s offering.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They go through it a couple of times with no trouble, but it doesn’t take him long to start fucking around, purposely playing the wrong notes and randomly changing the tempo to make her mess up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I hate you,” she laughs breathlessly after almost tripping over her own feet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You love it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Lies,” she slides over to the piano, fully intending to whack him over the head with the songbook and somehow – before she knows it – they’re kissing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s her first proper kiss (not counting the Spin the Bottle disaster that her and Theo have never stopped laughing about – especially since he came out last year) so she doesn’t have anything to compare it to but it’s… nice. Really nice. Time flies by in a blur – she can barely remember where she <em>is</em>, let alone have many minutes have passed – until the shrill sound of her phone ringing causes them to part with a jump.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s Robert, letting her know he’s outside, and to hurry up because he’s starving. As if <em>he</em> wasn’t the one who was late in the first place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’ll text you!” Philip shouts as she grabs her stuff and runs for the door, helpless to stop the grin taking over her face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Good rehearsal?” Robert asks as she bundles herself into the passenger seat, tutu sticking out of her bag.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yep. Fine. Normal.” Is her voice usually this high? She takes a quick puff of her inhaler.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert shoots her an odd look, before turning on the engine and driving them in the direction of Pizza Express.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Philip did text her before she’d even made it home that night, and now the kissing has become a regular thing. After rehearsals, behind the Home Farm stables, even in an old barn one rainy Sunday afternoon.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">And then he takes her out for burgers, then to the cinema, then for a long walk through the woods, and then just like that they're dating.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve doesn’t tell her parents. It’s not a <em>secret</em>, exactly, she just… doesn’t happen to mention it to them… at this present moment in time. They’d only be weird and anxious about it, probably find a million things wrong with him before they’ve even met him and she doesn’t need the aggro. After the way she’s seen them treat Robert over the years (and she’s heard the stories, knows it was like that from the very start, long before Robert even went to prison), she doesn’t want to inflict that on Philip. He might dump her on the spot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She does tell Aaron and Robert, though, can’t resist letting them in on it when they ask her what’s got her grinning at her phone like a maniac.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Okay, that’s… ” Aaron’s face scrunches up like he’s constipated.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“He’s in my year,” Seb says absently as he flicks through the prospectus for the University of Edinburgh (he’s got a conditional offer and has barely put it down since). “He seems alright, not at all like a serial killer.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, a ringing endorsement,” says Aaron, rubbing the temple.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert laughs and pats Aaron's shoulder in a way that seems more patronising than comforting. “Why don’t you invite him round for tea so we can meet him? Or even just a brew or something?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, okay… but you’ll be nice to him, right?” She shoots a pleading look in Aaron’s direction.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“When am I ever not nice?!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve doesn’t dignify that with a response.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Philip does come round for tea, and it goes about as well as she could hope for. He puts his natural charm to good use; he’s endlessly polite (almost annoyingly so), answers all of their questions and sings Eve’s praises more than once. They have a minor hiccup when, about fifteen minutes into the meal, Aaron casually drops the fact that he and Robert have both been to prison for GBH and <em>murder</em> into the conversation. Philip coughs into his glass of diet coke and turns slightly pale, but to his credit, he keeps it together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Seb sits back and watches the whole ordeal with a grin, looking like he wishes he had a bucket of popcorn instead of chicken and veg.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve gives Philip a quick kiss goodbye outside, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Aaron and Robert are both watching through the window – they’re not even being subtle about it – and closes the door. Aaron stares at her with his arms crossed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So? Did he pass?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He holds out for a moment before sighing and dropping his arms to his sides. “I <em>suppose </em>he can come again.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve's parents find out about Philip by accident. Seb tells Isaac, who tells Kyle, which is overheard by Cain, who mentions it to Charity. <em>Most</em> unfortunately, he mentions it to her while her parents are in earshot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Exactly <em>when</em> were you planning on telling us?” Eve’s mum practically pounces on her as soon as she walks into the pub. Fuck.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Uh… today?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t start with me, missy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What <em>is</em> it with your kids and the cute boys at Home Farm?” Charity smirks, then quickly makes herself scarce when Paddy shoots her a murderous look. She cackles loudly all the way, though.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve stares nervously at her parents, can see the mix of anger and hurt on their faces and for a moment, she does feel guilty. It can’t be nice, being the last to know. And then –</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t know <em>what</em> you think you’re doing with that boy; he’s too old for you for a start, his parents swan around like they own the place and don’t get me started on <em>his</em> attitude – Eve? Where are you going? Eve, get <em>back</em> <em>here</em>!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She walks right back out of the pub again, leaving her screeching mother in her wake.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 17 years old when she meets up with Aaron at the Outdoor Pursuits Centre, Sansa in tow. He’s started teaching boxing classes there and has fallen in love it, spending more time there than at the scrapyard these days. The Sharmas are pretty thrilled, too; Aaron’s lessons are some of the most popular the centre has to offer, places filling up as fast as they can offer them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But no one is more pleased by Aaron’s new hobby than Robert – Eve has learnt the hard way to never, <em>ever</em> pop round to the Mill when she knows Aaron has just come back from a session. Her eyes will never recover.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Alright?” Aaron smiles and jogs towards her, kit bag slung over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, Sansa needed taking out and Robert was busy yelling at a client on the phone. Thought we might as well come and walk you home.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They set off with the setting winter sun, Eve chatting about her coursework and Theo failing his driving test and her friend Jess’s new tattoo, while Aaron listens and chugs his water bottle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She’s in the middle of telling him about the house party she’s going to that weekend (or the small, strictly alcohol-free sleepover, if her parents ask), when her phone buzzes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She checks it – just a stupid meme from Philip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They had broken up not long after he’d gone off to university in London, deciding that they weren’t cut out for a long-distance relationship based on FaceTime calls and the odd long weekend visit (that one was especially tricky to navigate when her parents still actively tried to stop her from going any further than Leeds on her own).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s been a few months now, and they still keep in touch a bit, probably because it had been mostly amicable in the end. Eve had been slightly gutted at the time, but deep down she knew it was better to call if off before they started hating each other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it,” Robert had said as he passed her a Ben and Jerry’s tub the size of her head. Eve’s not entirely unconvinced he didn’t just want an excuse to scoff some ice cream, but she appreciated him giving her the opportunity to wallow. She’d refused to do it at home, where her parents wouldn’t be able to resist assaulting her with <em>I-told-you-so’s </em>about how it was never going to last.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Anything important?” Aaron asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Just Philip,” she says, tucking the phone back in her pocket. She rolls her eyes when he gives her a concerned look.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You can still be friends with someone after you break up, y’know?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Anyone ever tell you how annoying it is to be that mature at your age?” He shakes his head and pulls his wooly hat further down over his ears. “So he’s getting on okay at uni, then?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Think so. He’s always been more of a city boy so I think he’s happy down there.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron nods and throws a stick for Sansa to fetch. “You been thinking much about uni? Or whatever you want to do after A Levels?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She shrugs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What about dancing?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve knows that’s what she wants to do, it’s all she’s ever wanted to do. But… Mum keeps dropping prospectuses for universities on her bed (local only – Leeds, York, Lancaster, the furthest is Carlisle). Dad keeps reminding her he can give her a job at the surgery if she wants it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You could always go to dance school.” Aaron presses on. “The Northern Ballet must have a good programme, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah… it’s in Manchester.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, you’ve been to enough summer schools with them that they should offer you a place on the spot. Christ, they should offer <em>me</em> a place, I’ve spent that much time there over the years.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t think you’ve got the legs for it, sorry n’all,” she laughs when he shoves her into a hedge. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Rude.” He pulls her back and slings an arm over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So? You want to stick with ballet, then, yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, yeah but… I don’t know, it’s not that simple.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Why not?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It’s not exactly realistic, is it? It’s super competitive and – and hard to turn into a proper career. Plus, there aren’t many dancing jobs around here.” Her mother’s dismissive laugh echoes in her ears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So you do the training, get your qualifications, then you can go where the jobs are. London, Paris – I don’t know – New York? Wherever.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve stares out over the fields. He makes it sound so easy, smiling encouragingly like he doesn’t see what the problem is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Mum and Dad don’t think – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No,” Aaron cuts her off sharply, smile gone in an instant.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Stop right there.” And he does physically stop her, grabbing her arm until they come to standstill. “Listen to me, ‘cause this is important, alright? You don’t let <em>anyone</em> – least of all Mum and Paddy – try to tell you how to live your life.” She’s never heard him speak to her so sternly – <em>angrily</em>, almost.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Look, I love Mum and Paddy, I always will. But one of the biggest mistakes I made when I was younger was letting them get in my head, letting them think they could control me and have a say in every decision I made. I let them do it for so long that when I finally stopped, they didn’t know how to handle it, and that’s how we’ve ended up in the mess we’re in now.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">His face falls a little, before he stares at her seriously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re almost 18, you’re not a kid anymore – old as that makes me feel – so if you want something, you go for it. You don’t need permission to do what makes you happy, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve swallows thickly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“<em>Okay?</em>” He gives her shoulder a shake.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh my God, okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Okay. Good.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Do you think they’d be like this if – if Grace hadn’t… ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I don’t know.” He sighs heavily, before linking his arm with hers and resuming their walk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So when are the auditions?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Autumn. And I need to send off an application.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Right, well Rob and I can help you with it. We’ll speak to Sophie, then get it done and sent off asap, yeah? Whatever you need.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Just… maybe not tonight, though?” Aaron suddenly looks slightly awkward. “We kind of have anniversary plans so… ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh for – how many anniversaries do you <em>need</em>? Which one is it this time?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You… probably don’t want to know, to be honest."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Disgusting. I’m disgusted.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is 18 years old on the night she moves out of the pub, and it’s pretty awful.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She stands outside the back door, flanked by Aaron and Robert, and stares at the brass knocker.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You have to turn the handle for it to open,” Robert says. “That’s sort of how doors work.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I <em>know</em>, I’m just… working up to it.” She resists the urge to reach for her inhaler.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Look,” Aaron gives her hand a squeeze. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. It can’t be any worse than when I told them I’d married this one again.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, cheers,” Robert elbows him. “So, we going in?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Nothing for it, then.</span>
</p><p>*</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What do you <em>mean</em>, dance school?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I got into the Northern Ballet School in Manchester; it’s a three year diploma. I start in September and I’m really excited about it. I was kind of hoping you would be, too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Her parents stare at her, jaws practically on the floor. She can already see the furious realisation creeping into her mum’s eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So when you said you weren’t applying to any universities yet, that you wanted to wait a year… ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“That wasn’t true. I’m sorry.” Eve winces, she’d hoped they wouldn’t pick up on that white lie. “But university, dance school, what’s the difference? I’m still gonna have a qualification at the end of it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“The <em>difference</em> is after university you can get a proper job.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What, so I can wind up in an office in Hotten or Leeds? Keep living at home – or close enough that you can pop by every weekend?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Look, you can’t, Manchester is too far away!” Mum cries, practically wailing now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“It’s not even two hours,” Aaron says, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“But – but come on, Evie,” Dad laughs, <em>scoffs</em> really. “Dancing’s just a hobby, it’s not a – it’s not a <em>career</em>, is it? Not around here, anyway.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Then I’ll just live somewhere else, somewhere where it <em>is</em> a career.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They look panicked at that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Okay, you don’t have to go to university if you don’t want to, we’re not forcing you,” Dad tries, his attempt at a casual demeanour betrayed by the urgency in his voice. “But – but what about your teaching? You’re good at that, why don’t you stick with it? You can still do that here.” He’s referring to the beginner's dance lessons she gives in Hotten twice a week.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron lets out an incredulous laugh. “Paddy, come on, you can’t be serious.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What, there’s nothing wrong with teaching – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“That’s not what I want to <em>do</em>. Maybe someday, when I’m older, but not now!” Eve lets out a frustrated breath and pinches the bridge of her nose. Why does everything has to be so difficult with them? “Listen, I’m doing this whether you like it or not, so – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“We won’t pay for it,” Mum blurts out suddenly. “We said we’d help put you through university, through an actual degree, but not this. You can’t go if you don’t have money to live on, to pay rent.” The vicious look of triumph on her face makes Eve’s blood run cold.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You don’t have to,” Robert pipes up. It’s the first time he’s spoken since this whole thing kicked off. Their heads whip in his direction, irritation clear on their faces.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“S-sorry, but what does this have to do with <em>you</em>?” Dad splutters. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Robert doesn’t rise to it, keeps his tone even. “Aaron and I are paying for her to go.” And they are; Eve’s sworn she’ll get a part-time job to cover day-to-day expenses, but Aaron and Robert have insisted on covering her tuition and rent. Most of Seb’s university expenses are covered by a trust fund from Rebecca’s side of the family, so Aaron and Robert have savings to spare.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, I might have known you’d have something to do with it,” Mum spits out, jabbing an accusing finger at him. “Was this your idea then, trying to <em>buy</em> my daughter like you buy everything else?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh my – shut the fuck up, Chas,” Robert snaps, finally losing grip of his temper.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Mum’s eyes widen, practically bulging in her head at Robert answering back to her for once. Eve actually can’t blame her; until now, she’s only ever seen him grit his teeth and turn the other way, refusing to engage every time Mum tried to start something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Paddy turns to Aaron. “Are you going to let him speak to her like that?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aaron doesn’t look happy, but shrugs. “After the way she’s spoken to him – to <em>both</em> of us – over the years, I’d say it’s no more than she deserves, if I’m honest.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Aaron… this is none of his business.” Mum’s apparently recovered from her shock, then. “This is a family matter so – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Family is supposed to support each other, which makes Rob and I more Eve’s family than the pair of you are being right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Eve… ” Her mum gazes as her imploringly, voice softer now. Eve can see her resolve crumbling. “Come on, love, we just want what’s best for you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You want what’s best for <em>you</em>, there’s a difference,” Robert mutters. Mum glares at him before shooting her another pleading look.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’m going, Mum. I’m sorry, but I am.” Eve’s embarrassingly relieved that there’s only the slightest wobble to her voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So that’s it, then? You’ve made your mind up?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve nods. Mum stares at her blankly for a moment, before turning to Aaron, hands on her hips. “Well, if you and Robert are <em>so</em> set on looking after my own daughter for me, you can start right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She turns back to Eve. “You can live with them from now on.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Chas – ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No, Paddy, she’s made it quite clear she can do without us. Might as well let her get on with it.” Her tone is ice cold.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve wishes she could say she was shocked, but she’d had a horrible feeling something like this would be coming. In a way, it’s almost a relief.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Fine. I’ll just get my – “</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“We’ll send your things over.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“… Are you kidding me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Get out.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Mum, come on – ” Aaron tries.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“<em>Now</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Welcome to the <em>kicked-out-by-your-parents</em> club,” Robert says as he hands her a brew.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Robert!” Aaron throws his hands up in exasperation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, at least she has somewhere to stay, all I had was my shitty car.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She snorts. “I didn’t realise it was a competition.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Nah, it’s not really. Just ‘cause you’re not there anymore, doesn’t actually mean you’re homeless.” He pulls her into him, lets her rest her head on his shoulder. They sip their teas in silence while Aaron goes to put fresh sheets on Eve’s bed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I can’t believe you swore at Mum.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“God, it felt good. Took me right back to my youth.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">A couple of hours later, there’s a loud banging on the door. Aaron opens it to find Uncle Cain and Isaac standing outside, arms laden with bags and suitcases of Eve’s belongings.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Alright?” Cain barrels through, dumping everything by the spiral staircase and wincing as his back cracks. He fixes Eve with a questioning look, eyebrows raised. She shrugs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“My sister’s a bloody idiot.” He chucks her under the chin before making his way to the kitchen and grabbing himself a mug. “Isaac, help Eve get that stuff shifted upstairs,” he calls over his shoulder as he busies himself with the kettle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Isaac rolls his eyes but grabs three rucksacks and throws them over his shoulder like they’re nothing. At 20 years old, he’s almost as tall as Uncle Marlon and twice as broad, years of working on Auntie Moira’s farm making his arms look like they’re about to burst out of his stupid too-tight t-shirts. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Between them, it doesn’t take long to lug everything up to Eve’s room, collapsing on the floor when they’re done.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So, Manchester then?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yep.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Cool. Can’t wait to come and meet all your fit dancer friends.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Ew.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What? They’ll love me, I’m a catch!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re something,” she shakes her head. “You can come stay if you want, though. It’ll be nice to have someone visit. S'not like Mum and Dad are gonna come, from the looks of it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He sighs, suddenly sounding a bit like Uncle Cain. “Fuck ‘em. You’ll do great. Just as long as they don’t ask you to skateboard across the stage, eh?” He laughs as he darts towards the door, dodging the pillow she chucks at his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“That was <em>one time</em>, you twat!"</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She takes the train to Edinburgh the following weekend and spends it with Seb, catching him up on the latest drama over cheap drinks in the Student’s Union bar.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Christ, they are buckets of crazy. And I thought my Mum and Ross were a nightmare,” he says mildly, pouring… some sort of purple beverage out of a jug. “Well, enough about psycho parents for tonight. Let’s get pissed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They’re soon joined by a group of Seb’s friends from his course and have a brilliant night, drifting from bar to bar until Eve ends up getting completely wasted for the first time in her life. When the sun filters through her crusty eyes the next morning, she vows never to do it again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say,” Seb smirks over their hangover breakfast, before dragging her out for a day of exploring. She very nearly throws up over the side of the castle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The weeks and months that follow are basically a waiting game.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve’s parents basically ignore her existence and she lets them, focuses on getting through the rest of sixth form and planning for what comes next.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">There’s endless forms to fill in, classes to prepare for and accommodation to sort – Robert is relentlessly picky when it comes to this, to the point where Eve and Aaron have to talk him out of just finding her a studio flat of her own to rent. Then Theo comes over and tells her he’s set on going to Manchester, too, to study graphic design, and she’s over the moon knowing that she won’t be <em>entirely</em> alone when she gets there. They spend hours Googling things to do, cheap places to eat and cool bars to try. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Before she knows it, August is almost over. She’s passed her A Levels and Seb’s passed his second year exams, and Aaron and Robert are taking them out for a celebratory meal.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, here’s to the two brainiacs of the family,” Robert grins as they clink their champagne glasses together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I still hate this stuff,” Aaron pulls a face after taking a sip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">*</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">A few days later, it’s early September and there’s an army of Dingles surrounding Robert’s car, lining up to wave Eve off. Her mad family jostle each other loudly, shouting over each other in their excitement. Auntie Charity tucks a wad of cash and condoms into her pockets, Uncle Marlon keeps shoving homemade snacks into her hands and promises to send her more, while Belle keeps crowing about how this whole event is solely down to her taking Eve to see <em>The Nutcracker</em> – or wait, was it <em>Sleeping Beauty</em>? – all those years ago.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You have a brilliant time now, you hear?” Granny Faith holds her tight, and Eve has to squeeze her eyes shut against tears as she buries her face in her hair – which she still keeps jet black and immaculately styled, even though she’s getting on a bit now. “I know you’ll do us proud.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">This is harder than Eve thought it would be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Come on, we need to get going if we want to beat the traffic!” Aaron shoves the last suitcase into the boot and climbs into the driver’s seat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">There’s a sudden hush among the small crowd and Eve looks up to see her parents coming out of the Woolpack, stony-faced.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Chas, don’t start,” Cain mutters as they approach the car. Mum side-eyes him before shaking her head minutely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re off, then?” She asks Eve quietly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, first day starts tomorrow so… ”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” Dad says, tucking his hands into the pockets of a cardigan that doesn’t quite fit anymore. He’s gained a little weight ever since he stopped doing call-outs a few months ago, retirement looming round the corner.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Course. I’m in a pretty safe area, I’ll text you the address. Or you can get it from Aaron… “ she trails off, unsure of what’s left to say. Part of her wishes they hadn’t come out at all.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, take care.” Mum hesitates, looks like she’s going to add something for a moment, before closing her mouth and stepping back, arms folded across her faux fur jacket.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">That’s that, then.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve says one last goodbye to everyone, Isaac pulling her a final hug that feels more like a headlock, before she squeezes into the back of the car next to Seb, who was willing to come and help her settle in if he got a free trip to Manchester out of it. It takes a bit of manoeuvring to fit their legs around the boxes and bags in the footwell, but they make it work. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">As the car begins to move, Eve quickly rolls down the window and sticks her arm out to wave at her family, who whoop and cheer and wave back manically. Her gaze wanders over to her stationary parents, who stand slightly apart from the rest of the group, and for some reason, she can’t help but notice how different they seem from when she was little, Dad nearly 70 now and Mum only a few years behind him. They look small, she thinks absently. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Right, let’s get out of here,” Robert says from the passenger seat, setting up his pre-prepared driving playlist with one hand and stroking Aaron’s wrist with the other. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I hope you’re not planning on playing your cheesy 90’s pop,” Aaron grumbles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Nah, thought I’d save that for when we take Seb back to uni.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“God, you couldn’t have gone to a dance school in Edinburgh, could ya?” Aaron scowls at Eve in the rearview mirror. “We could’ve just done two trips in one.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I thought I was picking the music for going back to uni!” Seb kicks the back of Aaron’s seat like he’s six.</span>
</p><p class="p2">"You can pick when it's your car."</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">In amongst all their bickering, Eve realises that they’ve left the village, stone cottages giving way to country lanes as they head towards the motorway. As they come to a stop at some traffic lights, Aaron twists around in his seat to smile at her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You ready for this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eve Dingle is a month shy of 19 years old and she is <em>out</em> of here.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Any kudos, thoughts and comments are always endlessly appreciated!</p><p>Title is from "Home" by Gabrielle Aplin</p><p>Final note – the Northern Ballet is AMAZING and they deserve just as much recognition as the dance companies down in London.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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